


Just a Jape

by toothgremlin



Category: Hulu's The Great - Fandom, The Great (2020), The Great (TV 2020), The Great - Fandom, The Great-Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Female Reader, Self-Insert, Virgin Orlo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:08:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24993619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toothgremlin/pseuds/toothgremlin
Summary: If Catherine mock-flirting with Orlo had taken place in the palace.
Relationships: Count Orlo/Reader
Comments: 13
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> @thegreatfanblog on tumbler.com  
> please don't repost anywhere without my consent. thank you!

It was a jest.

“You have beautiful lips… so plump.”

She moved closer to Orlo and his eyes glanced down nervously at the swish of her dress. 

“W-What are you talking about?”

“And pretty hands...”

Orlo flinched at her touch, pulling back completely. 

“Be serious!” 

She let out a single laugh, pointing directly at the count with her eyes widened comically. 

“With your pretty, amethyst-like eyes,” Catherine again joked at Orlo’s expense.

“I see,” said the Count, displeasure evident on his tired face.

See he did indeed. His sexuality had constantly been a joke of Peter’s court and though Catherine had been trying to prove a point, it still stung more than she would ever know. He hated its discussion which made it a favorable target for those looking to hurt him. 

Orlo hadn’t thought the Empress would join that train of mockery but here he was; hot tears slipping down his cheeks as he rushed to the library: his place of comfort. He always cried there alone for it was long forgotten by the palace inhabitants. And unlike the rest of the palace, including his rooms which would be entered by Peter and Catherine at each of their own whims, Orlo was always the sole inhabitant. He, after all, was an important member of each of their “courts”, and yet still seen as a lesser being. The Count was a servant to their intellectual needs at all hours it seemed. Yes, the library was his last bit of happiness. 

He barged into the room, knees sinking to the floor once he was properly inside. His breath came out in gasps of air as he tried to quiet himself, thinking of all the jokes at his expense. Orlo did not understand why they hurt him so, but he suspected it was because of their sharp truth that had the ability to cut into his heart. Most people did not like to be faced with their personal truths, and Orlo was not exempt from this; he was a virgin. Plainly put. His cock had never seen mouth, nor pussy, nor asshole, nor whatever orifice was in fashion these days. Even the hand of another was out of reach from him. The Ladies of the court would no doubt either simply laugh in his face in repulsion or use his innocence as ammo to climb the social ladder through gossip and terrible jokes at his expense. Approaching the palace serfs just seemed wrong and any woman outside of the palace was out of the question as all of his time was spent within. Not to mention despite his modern ideologies, he wished to court a lady as she deserved, earning her trust and companionship. He would not take as other men do. Orlo was doomed to a life of celibacy it seemed. And at this point, he began to mesh the words “unlovable” and his name into one, both words taking on the same meaning.

Orlo wiped the tears from his eyes, scrubbing at them harshly under his oval glasses. He took deep steadying breaths and opened his eyes to ground himself to reality. He was in the library, his favorite place, perched on his knees in front of the fireplace which was lit to a comfortable temperature… 

Orlo’s mind sharpened at the thought.  _ Why would it…? _ he thought, desperately trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Orlo hastily wiped his eyes dry and stood up, turning to study the room. His vision moved left to right, taking in not only an active fireplace, but also a candle that had only recently begun to drip. Someone was here. Fuck.  _ Fuck _ .

His eyes reached the far back of the room, straining in the soft glow to see a soft slipper peeking from behind the final bookshelf. Orlo let out a choked sigh. 

“Pl-please come out,” he said quietly, breathing evening at this development. And when nothing moved, “I see your foot.”

The unknown slipper shot back, and a feminine voice cleared in preparation. Orlo waited as the shuffling of feet and an almost silent ruffle of a dress was heard. The floorboards groaned as the individual stood. He braced himself against the chair next to him in preparation. She inched out towards the light, face becoming easier to see. Lady Y/L/N, a Lady of the court. Fuck this was not good. 

While the lady was one of the more quiet ones, Orlo understood the power held in knowledge of the court. Knowledge that could ruin each and everyone of the Lords and Ladies, although none seemed to understand this other than Orlo. Lady Y/N was a trusted confidant of the court, arms always open when one was in need of an ear, shoulder to cry on, and advice. She rarely used her knowledge of the ins and outs of court surprisingly. He had learnt through intense study to understand those in the game, and she was a player indeed. And although she did not interact as much as he did, the Lady held subtle power over the Ladies of the court. She watched and listened, hoarding information and waiting for the right moment. She made herself quiet at all times, he had caught her every now and then with her mask down, observing quiet moments between the Lady and her handmaid, and had put the puzzle pieces together. Whether it was a misspeak regarding the Emperor, an embarrassing personal issue, or just plain rumors, the Lady had almost all in the palm of her hand. Lady Y/L/N could dole out rumor as fact and revoke a truth as heresy, even if she rarely did any of the sort. She was removed from his real worries, as she appeared to be playing the game on the levels of the other Ladies; petty, selfish, and purely making social gains. Not directly a political player, but an obstacle in the court nonetheless. Although the Emperor’s social life was, at times, synonymous with politics. Orlo had been careful in his avoidance of her seemingly mindless monarchy over gossip… Until now. Oh, this was really not good.

His eyes took in her appearance in a lightning quick glance that she undoubtedly noticed. Lady Y/L/N was wearing a long -sort of light purple?- nightgown, hair loose and wild. She stood several inches shorter than usual, her feet unhindered by elevated heels that many of the women used to feel superior to his more average height. The Lady was entirely different from how he had always seen her. It would almost be comforting had he not known better. 

“What are you doing in here?” Orlo questioned, trying to sound angry but coming off as just upset, voice cracking in his state. An emotion one could call thoughtful briefly flashed across her face. Then a small smirk. 

“Masturbating.”

The answer was blunt and Orlo’s face burned with the rush of blood.  _ Low fucking blow.  _ His hands clenched in fists. She stared back at him confidently after the low blow, a hip cocked out in the infamous stance most of the Ladies of court took on when taunting him. Orlo unconsciously took her appearance in again, eyes nervously darting anywhere but her face. That’s when he noticed it. Face still flushed, he raised a hand to point at it. 

“Is that why you seem to be reading as well?” Innocent he may be, stupid he is not. And although he hated playing dirty in this respect -reading was a gift all should be able to enjoy- he was frankly out of fucks to give at this moment. 

She muttered a “fuck” and quickly glanced towards the door, arms hiding themselves and the book behind her back. The action made her chest push forward appealingly and Orlo pretended to not notice. Her eyes were wider than before.

“You caught me,” Lady Y/L/N said. It seemed so, Orlo thought, but her only somewhat ruffled nonchalant attitude made him wonder. “I wonder what Peter would do knowing how his confidant cried in such a womanly way.” The smug look returned to her face.

_ So that was it _ , he thought. That was  _ it _ . The only information she had to use against him and it was another jab towards his masculinity. Fucking perfect. 

“So he can make a thousand more jokes at my expense? He would do so regardless of this information,” Orlo retorted, previous sadness forgotten almost completely by the end of his sentence. Her smug demeanor fell; she knew her bluff would not cut it; they both were aware that the punishment for women reading -women other than Catherine- far outranked any drivel regarding Orlo’s lack of masculinity she could drip into the Emperor’s ear. Lady Y/L/N contemplated her cards, and then inclined her head regally.

“What do you  _ want _ ?” What  _ did _ he want? He knew his wish would not be taken lightly; she was at his mercy. Orlo could have  _ anything  _ the Lady could provide, and she thoroughly understood this before it escaped her lips. Orlo glanced back down in a moment of weakness, eyes flowing over her curves and beauty. Her softness was emphasized by her nightwear. They dragged back to Lady Y/L/N’s face, and he could not, would not, ask that of her. Her face became as blank as the floorboards that creaked beneath them as she waited upon an answer she thought she already knew. He would not. 

“Read with me? Twice a week in the gardens or here?”

Her face went slack in shock and he was almost proud that he had surprised her, had the surprise not been his lack of desire to force himself on the Lady, as most warm blooded men of the court would have. Shock, then relief, then nothing. She contemplated her answer.

“Just read?”

He nodded earnestly. Since Catherine had acquired Leo, she all but threw Orlo aside for the intellectual -and physical- challenge that the new man provided. Orlo had been missing the short period of joy he had experienced in their heated and unheated debates, the analysis a trusted equal provided in the intellectual drought that was the fucking Emperor of Russia’s palace. Another chance at that was more appealing to him than an entire year of sex. Not to mention how fucking nerve wracking a coup could be. A man needed release, in more ways than one.

“Fine,” she relinquished, and Orlo’s heart could only soar. “What will we tell others if we are found?” Good question. He had almost never directly interacted with her other than brief and polite comments that were minimal. Them being seen together would be undoubtedly nitpicked. All social alterations to the court were intensely questioned. Orlo crossed his arms in contemplation, bringing one hand up to rub at his chin.

“We will make it up as we go?” His question was meant as a statement but came out all wrong. She furrowed her brows, mirroring his stance. 

“That’s not good enough and you know it,” she rubbed her face, looking more tired than previously. She spoke… differently following her metaphorical capture. Orlo found he enjoyed the realness of it. 

She began to pace across the room, deep in thought. Back and forth. Back and forth. It took minutes before she answered and her slippers scuffed the floor as she came to a standstill. 

“We’re courting,” Lady Y/L/N snapped, “Their focus would be miniscule on any reading I do.”

She stated it as fact, which didn’t make it hurt any less. Of course the absurdity of him courting a woman would far outweigh that of a woman reading. It was laughable really. But it could work. 

Both Orlo and Lady Y/L/N were players that flew under the radar; Orlo’s emasculated character allowed for him to go unperceived as a threat, and the Lady rarely used the hoards of knowledge she had gained, only breaking it out for seemingly random cases, being a perfect Lady of the court and never appearing to lie. Orlo had thought it was due to the fact that she was on the same level as  _ them _ , using information selfishly and stupidly for personal gain, but interacting with her now seemed to put her alterations of the court in a different light. She never directly benefited from this knowledge, he knew this. The Lady had been in the palace for around half as long as Orlo and yet he could not recall an instance of it. Instead she seemingly passed the information off as a gift, sparingly and specifically, forcing others to rely on her heavily for their fixes. She allowed others to take credit and the lead; Lady Y/L/N could have easily taken over Lady Svenska’s position as the leading Lady by now, and yet she never did. 

Orlo realized the potential of their acquaintanceship for the coup. Immense. He originally ruled her out, due to how deeply integrated into the court she was, however their current interaction brought another side of her to the light. Intelligent. Sociable. And most importantly,  _ accepted _ . She was just what Catherine needed to gain the ladies’ trust. 

He nodded his head distractedly, “Yes, that would work.” His eyes met hers once more. 

“Meet here tomorrow at 9 in the morning.”

With that, she escaped into the night, placing the offending book on the shelf closest to her, and bolting out of the room, not looking back. Orlo stared at the door for too long.  _ Fuck. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @thegreatfanblog on tumblr

Fuck fuck  _ fuck _ .  _ This is going fuck everything up _ , thought Lady Y/L/N angrily, storming back to her room.  _ Fucking Orlo. Fucking Catherine. Fucking Peter.  _ Each ‘fucking’ was emphasized by a particularly hard stomp to the wood beneath her. Y/N saw her end approaching as well the door to her apartments. She began pacing as soon as she crossed the threshold, almost creating a trench in her own floor.

Her courtship of the Count could only go in one of two directions; the first of which being that her place in the court as a trustworthy individual would become firmly settled in their combined harmlessness (being untied to a husband as a lady of the court made her too mobile, too  _ adapting _ . It was a blindspot for the character she created), or, the much more disastrous outcome, she would begin to stick out like a sore thumb, losing the Ladies as their disdain for Orlo took over. She would need to talk him up before revealing their courtship. Majorly. 

Y/N nodded to herself in agreement, finally coming to a stop in the middle of her room. Her body sagged in relief as her plan began to come together. It would begin in the morning, but for now all she could do was sleep. She tiptoed over to her bed and slipped under the covers, content enough to finally sleep after some restlessness. Her plan would have to wait. 

—

She awoke at dawn. Her body naturally slept little, only resting late into the night and waking early so as to get a head start over the other Lords and Ladies. She had to be sharp at all times. 

Y/N immediately got to work, quickly writing two messages over breakfast. One letter for Orlo to meet in her rooms at the same time instead of the library, and the other for Lady Tatyana to meet promptly at 9:20. She gave one each to two door-boys and sent them off with some biscuits, then calling for her handmaid Lada to run a bath. She quickly cleaned herself, then dressed with the help of the other woman. Y/N picked a lovely light pink dress that exposed her chest exceptionally well. Lada then painted her face, applying the current makeup that was in. She never asked to differ from the norm: a powder a shade lighter than her own skin covered her face, dark gel swiped against a spoolie to darken her lashes and brows, and a scarlet red gel painted on her lips to deepen their color. Y/N additionally asked for extra blush to cover her cheeks and nose subtly (enough to imitate a real blush) in preparation for the first “phase” of her plan. Thankfully, she only had to wait twenty minutes for Orlo’s arrival, completing letters to her family while she waited. She had no doubt he would arrive punctually, intrigued by the location change. Lada announced him exactly at the turn of the hour, drawing her from her writing. Y/N turned and nodded, allowing for Lada to show the Count inside.

The Lady noticed his outfit before the man himself, appraisingly taking in the deep greens of his long vest and undershirt combined with tan trousers. She nodded to herself absentmindedly.  _ Complimentary colors _ , she thought, smoothing the lines out over her own light pink dress. She strangely took this as a sign her plan was already working. She returned to reality at the confused look on his face as he stood awkwardly in front of the doors Lada closed behind her. Y/N roused immediately and motioned for him to sit on her couches, gracefully taking the other side, pen, ink, and paper in hand. Composing herself, she laid the items on the table between them and took a breath before speaking.

“We need to figure the details of our…  _ relationship  _ out,” she stated plainly, writing out the date at the top of the page. She dated all documents she wrote. He nodded in understanding, but seemed lost. Y/N had almost forgotten his lack of experience with how he had been staring at her last night. It was the most sexual she had seen him and it was only a faint hunger behind his eyes. It was entirely strange to her. 

“Yes -um- how should we…?” That confirmed she would be the one to take the lead. Completely, it now seemed. Y/N was silently pleased to do so, and she couldn’t help feeling surprised despite knowing his nature; she found that men tend to take charge even in matters they are unknowledgeable.

“I have been pondering this greatly,” she started, “I don’t believe it would be believable for you to have initiated our courtship-“ her eyes darted up and at his grimace added a “sorry…”

“But true,” he rebutted, setting that hurt to rest. She flashed a regretful smile and looked down at the page again.

“Because of this, I think our courtship’s origin should begin with me catching you staring and then acting upon it. It will have taken place in the garden which would explain the lack of witnesses. The power resides in our hands.” She wrote all of this out pausing briefly before adding another note. 

“What was that?” Her eyes looked up to find the man blushing while eagerly looking at the extra note scribbled in question. She rested the end of the quill against her lip. He glanced at where it met skin. He found he could not resist taking her in. 

“Good hands… and fingers,” she said absentmindedly, thinking of more details to write. Orlo’s face turned a bright red. 

“Ha,” he laughed with no humor, thinking back to Catherine’s words. She confusedly turned her gaze back towards the man. “Good one.”

Y/N paused, not quite understanding the joke she apparently made. 

“About my hands being good.”

_ Ah,  _ she thought,  _ His lack of self confidence was astounding. It was just hands. _

“It is not a joke, and if you would like I could talk about another appendage in question, however I have yet to see it, and I do hate lying-“ she paused “most of the time.”

His hands flew up to cover his searing face.

“Jesus fucking-“

“I will explain further as your brain seems to be malfunctioning,” she cleared her throat. “By observing your hands I can see that they are objectively good. They look good and therefore are good. However, when I state that you have good hands or good fingers to another, I am creating an innuendo that is entirely true while implying something that could be entirely false. I have no idea whether you actually have  _ good _ fingers in  _ that  _ sense, but the seed is planted in the other’s head.”

_ Oh fuck, _ Orlo thought desperately. 

“So this is one of your tactics… brilliant,” he mumbled, trailing off in wonder. He was blind in this area of manipulation as he could never pull it off correctly.

She was thankful for her makeup, for she was actually blushing now. He seemed to understand her better than she assumed.

“Thank you,” she said, turning thoughtful. “I will create other details to include however-“

“Lady Y/N, Lady Tatyana has arrived,” interrupted Lada. 

“-that will be none of your concern. Good day Count Orlo.”

He scrambled up, evidently worried about being seen inside the Lady’s rooms too early in the plan, but settled when he saw her ease. This was a part of it. And she hadn't told him.  _ Rude _ . He bowed and briskly walked out of her room, blush still encompassing his handsome face.  _ Now where did that thought come from?  _ Y/N shook her head and welcomed Tatyana with a shy smile and open arms.

“Was that-“ 

“Yes,” Y/N ducked her head bashfully, returning to her character. “But that is not what I wanted to speak about.” The other Lady squealed in glee, glancing back at the Count’s retreating figure in wonder. 


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i sowwy i will be hopefully updating more fics soon. classes and moving have been notttt fun teehee. thank you for your patience and kindness <333

The image of the woman that greeted Orlo in her quarters clashed aggressively against the one from the previous night’s encounter in his mind. Both wielded the subtle power synonymous with Lady Y/N, however the night’s image was wildly different from how he had always seen her: quiet, giggling, knowledgeable in the court's social life but not too threatening politically in comparison to some of the other players Orlo took note of. The night had changed her, making Orlo clue into the fact that she is not as clueless as she seems. Her hair was wild and loose, bare legs slightly exposed, and body only covered by a slim piece of fabric. She was wonderful to him, however he was having trouble merging the two images for her into one; the one from this morning looked as she had always, and yet spoke like the woman from the previous night. His attempts at doing so made him slightly dizzy.

In his musings, Orlo decided to take a walk to the gardens to continue. He left the palace immediately after departing from Lady Y/L/N’s rooms, trying to get far into the seclusion deeper areas of the garden provided. He found the outdoors particularly pleasing when he had to solve certain problems. Sitting on a bench close to the woods, he thought for a while on how he could help the situation they found themselves in. He briefly wondered when reading would come into this, although Orlo was eager to spend more time with her. Afterall he had just met the Lady. 

—

Orlo noticed the time change when the sun provided the golden glow of the late afternoon. Damn, he had been out for too long. No doubt his presence would be -mildly- missed, with Peter only having serfs and Velementov to torment. The Count’s own exclusion would be noticed. 

He snapped his journal closed, throwing the tightly shut inkpot and quill into his pockets in his haste. Orlo began a quick retreat to the palace, journal clutched tightly in hand. As he neared it, he found something quite strange; a few Ladies of the court picnicking on the lawn all turned to stare at him, excitedly whispering amongst themselves. He hurried past, cheeks and ears heating as he overheard their giggles. While he was used to the negative attention of the Ladies, this seemed different. Orlo could feel them hungrily tracking his form, appraising him, as if coming to new revelations. He was certainly walking funny with the intense influx of -positive?- attention to himself.  _ What has she done?  _ he wondered to himself meekly. Orlo kept his head down and eyes forwards as his speed picked up. 

Inside the palace was worse. Instead of reporting to Peter as originally planned, Orlo spent hours shut in his apartments for a sense of normalcy, away from the prying eyes of other palace goers. He shuttered, thinking of how they tracked him as he attempted to calmly walk down the halls. Which Orlo failed. Miserably. He thought about how they giggled as he pivoted, clumsily changing directions as instinct took over, leading him into the safety of his quarters.

Orlo realized he was no longer reading and instead lost in thought. He huffed, setting whatever book he was reading onto his face, and again contemplating the situation he had gotten himself into.

**_Knock Knock_ **

The Count startled, causing the book to fall from his face as he struggled to stand, landing loudly with a thud and causing him to wince.

“ _ Fuck- _ Coming!”

He hurried to the door, leaving the book where it fell despite his better judgement. Orlo stopped briefly to ensure he looked somewhat presentable and then breezed past it, slipping as his tights met the smooth wooden floor. He swiftly opened the door…  _ Oh.  _

“Orlo! You sly slut!” 

The Emperor pushed his way into Orlo’s apartments, picking up a small glass paperweight as he strolled by the desk. Orlo turned to spare one last glance towards the guards posted in front of his apartments, and then swiftly closed the door, turning back to the Emperor’s figure. His breath caught as his eyes landed on the small globe in his palm. 

“Emperor,” Orlo began, “to what do I owe this -er- pleasant interaction?”

The Emperor lounged himself across one of Orlo’s chairs, his undoubtedly dirty feet pressed against the fine fabric that swathed the furniture. 

“Don’t be coy, Orlo,” the Emperor began, rolling his eyes. “You know exactly why I am here.”

Orlo gulped audibly.

“I… do?”

“Lady Y/N, you fucknut.”

_ Oh! _

“Ah! Yes, she is- well.”

Orlo floundered to say the necessary lies as Lady Y/N expected. He had to step up his game if their plan were to succeed...

The Emperor held up a hand, eyes never leaving the glass in his hand.

“No need; I know how delicate your virgin sensibilities are.” He paused in brief thought. “Well, just delicate sensibilities according to Georgina.” The Emperor turned to look expectantly at Orlo.

He felt blood pour into his veins, the flush moving like a bushfire up to his face and ears.  _ Fucking hell, is that what she said? _

The Emperor apparently took his beet red face as confirmation, throwing the globe into the air as he stood up. Orlo immediately backed up, hands cupped at his chest to catch the object. He hit the doors just as the ball hit him, knocking the wind from the Count on either side. The Emperor casually advanced into Orlo’s space as the man struggled to take creaky breaths, eyes clenched shut. He placed a hand on Orlo’s shoulder, causing the Count to flinch.

“If I didn’t know better, I would say you’re still a frigid virgin,” the Emperor studied his face. And then he shrugged.

“No matter; you’re still an effeminate pussy even after sticking your prick in one.”

And with that he pulled at Orlo’s shoulder, forcing him away from the door. Orlo heard the Emperor open the heavy wood and then hesitate.

“And don’t worry-” Orlo turned to look at him “-as a most gracious present, I won’t fuck her.”

The Emperor slipped from the room, a pep in his step and a drop in Orlo’s blood pressure that left him dangerously dizzy. The door slammed, pushing him into action, stumbling his way to his bed and collapsing there. 

What the  _ fuck _ had he gotten himself into?

**Author's Note:**

> @thegreatfanblog on tumbler.com  
> please don't repost anywhere without my consent. thank you!


End file.
